


Recursion

by Pirateofantiva



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, i need to stop choosing the most irrelevant and obscure ships to dedicate myself to, live fast die young y'all, we will make this ship sail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-28 19:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12614116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirateofantiva/pseuds/Pirateofantiva
Summary: "Hey Alexa?""Yes?""How do you tell if you have feelings for someone?"(prompts and drabbles for dom/darlene)





	1. The Pronoun Game

**Author's Note:**

> its 1am and i am fucked up over this ship. join me and the two other weirdos who ship this on this great journey into empty tumblr tags and zero fics.
> 
> but hey! if you ship this, write! we can expand the archive together! let's power the shit out of this ship! together, us irrelevant wlw will get what we want.

“Are you still close with your brothers?” 

Dom watched as Darlene twisted her hands, avoiding her eyes and keeping her gaze flicking across the room. Dom sighed inwardly at her question, knowing this was a repeat of their conversation at the bar. But she felt a little pang of sympathy in her chest, knew the full weight of Darlene’s question, knew she was thinking about Elliot and his inevitable spiral into insanity and imprisonment. She observed Darlene vehemently avoid her gaze and something in her softened, acquiescing to Darlene’s question. 

“No, I’m not. We had some… disagreements.” Dom hoped the regret wasn’t visible on her face as soon as she said it. She shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t have heart-to-hearts with the sister of one of the most wanted men alive. But fuck if she wasn’t lonely, if she didn’t walk into her empty apartment at night and feel her heart burning for more beyond the contemplatively quiet Alexa sitting on her bookshelf. She looked away, staring out the window, as Darlene raised her head and considered Dom closely. She broke out in a crooked grin, which did nothing to quell the haunted look on her face and in her eyes. 

“Couldn’t deal with all of you liking the same kinda gal, huh?” Her grin sharpened with the words, probing into Dom, searching for something more in Dom’s rigid posture and measured expression. Dom didn’t give at all, still staring outside. 

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, glanced back at Darlene. “Something like that.” Her eyes flitted back to the window. Darlene was mildly surprised and definitely intrigued, cataloging Dom’s answer and body language in the back of her mind. It was like a game, trying to get the agent to crack even just a little. 

“Yeah, well, people are dicks, what can I say.” She paused, swallowed. “Elliot was never like that with me. But he’s different. Always has been.” She stopped talking abruptly, twisting the ring on her finger, feeling Dom staring straight at her, into her. 

“You… I thought you said… never mind.” Dom started asking but stopped, desperately trying to redraw the boundary between them. This is inappropriate. This is dangerous. This is… interesting. Real.

“I said I experimented with the pronoun game. I didn’t say that girls themselves were the experiment. Jesus, isn’t it your job to pay attention to details?” Darlene said it without malice, her tone almost playful, but still dripping with a certain bitterness that Dom didn’t resent because she knew she somewhat deserved it. Instead, Dom caught herself off guard and laughed, shaking her head in surprise.

“Must have missed that one.” Dom and Darlene made eye contact for a moment, both grinning just the smallest amount, before the door slammed and her partner walked in, ending the moment. They looked away again, the moment passed but not forgotten. They returned to their respective roles, law enforcer and law breaker, sitting in silence, the moment filed away in the back of their minds. It rested there, heavy and real, promising and dangerous all at once.


	2. Hey Alexa?

Dom lay in bed, a cool breeze drafting through the room from the window. Her mind was spinning, the clock reading two am, her hands twitching like they wanted to grab her gun laying on the bedside table. She closed her eyes and pictured the diner, the way Darlene screamed, the blood splattering the vinyl seats and the tacky wallpaper. She breathed in, out, two more times, clenched her hands and sighed. Fear crept up her spine, unwelcome and unfamiliar, as the scenario played out in her mind. It felt so recent and yet so old, desperately out of reach but right in front of her. She tried to picture the detachment, the easy but limited sympathy she had for Darlene. Dom tried to remember looking at her and being overwhelmed with a sense of opportunity, with justice, desperation, maybe even a little bit of anger. She looks at Darlene now and she still feels opportunity, but it’s different somehow, twisted, tainted with the something that’s growing like a weed between them. Dom thought about Darlene’s stupid heart shaped sunglasses, her heavy gaze, the way her body tensed like it was preparing for a hit whenever Elliot was brought up. She saw Darlene’s heart, heavy and aching, always yearning to do the right thing. Her words echoed in the back of Dom’s mind. Jesus, isn’t it your job to pay attention to details? Dom’s eyes flew open, her body moving involuntarily upwards.

“Hey Alexa?” Her voice was shaky, her throat dry. She licked her lips, could feel the nerves humming through her arms.

“Yes?” Alexa’s reply was synthetically warm, comforting in a way that Dom was intimately familiar with. 

“How do you…” She stopped, licked her lips again, grasped for something in her mind. “How do you tell if you have feelings for someone?”  
Alexa started replying but Dom wasn’t listening, already knowing the answer, the weight of it sitting heavy in her chest. She laid back down, heart hammering, Alexa’s tinny voice echoing through the apartment.

“… and that’s how you know. I hope that answers your question.” Dom sighed, rubbed her forehead. She felt something clawing at her throat, in her chest, gripping her tightly and making it hard to breathe.

“Shit.”

Alexa clicked off. Dom breathed out into the darkness, the apartment falling silent once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we. can. do. this. write! you can do it!


	3. Have You Done This Before?

Dom wasn’t surprised when it finally happened. She was irritated, maybe; vindicated, definitely. She reflected briefly in her irritation, wondering if the FBI would finally listen to her now that the Dark Army was kicking down her front door. 

She fired off three shots before the door even had a chance to swing open off its broken hinges, the bullets finding a home in two agents stumbling their way over the threshold. Dom ducked behind the corner while three more agents stepped foot into her apartment and fired blindly at her. She took a deep breath, the gun heavy in her hands as her mind raced in search of a way out. She spared a glance around the corner, letting off two more shots in the direction of the door. One found its mark, a curse flying out when a body hit the floor. Two left. She’d gambled with worse odds. 

Dom steadied herself, turning out of cover and shooting the closest target. He fell down to the ground hard, groaning, and she was briefly distracted by him while the agent closest to her rushed forward in an attempt to disarm her. They collided, his gun forcefully slamming into her ribs when she twisted away. All the air left her body at once, her ribs aching from the heavy impact. He yanked her back in a split second when she raised her arm to fire; they toppled to the floor, Dom briefly but deeply regretting her living room layout when the side of her head smashed into the edge of her coffee table. Her vision darkened as the agent scrambled for his gun a few feet away. Dom blinked, raising her swaying hand as the world lurched around the end of the barrel. She fired, her arm shaking as the agent hit the floor. 

Dom struggled to push herself up, glancing around at the bodies littering her apartment while her legs trembled beneath her. She had to get out of there, go somewhere safe, but she couldn’t think of a single place to go. Her immediate instinct was to contact the FBI, but a nagging suspicion stopped her. She listened to her instincts, felt the creeping suspicion of the relationship between the FBI and the Dark Army grab hold of her mind. The feeling of wrongness overpowered her, and against her training, she decided against immediate FBI contact.

She pictured Darlene’s apartment, the one off the FBI record, hidden a few blocks away. She had bought it as a back-up, a just in case scenario for if a situation ever arose in which they needed to distance themselves from the official details in the investigation case file. She was deeply thankful for her precautionary measures even if Darlene had rolled her eyes at the time, as the just in case scenario had become an unfortunate reality, the if becoming a when. Dom plotted the route to the safe house in her mind, pulling out her phone and sending an encrypted text to Darlene telling her to meet her there. She was fairly certain that the Dark Army wouldn’t be able to understand it, as Darlene had coded it herself. It was her only option, and her second risky bet in the past five minutes.

Dom’s head jerked upward at the sound of footsteps resounding up the stairwell down the hallway. She couldn’t go that way, the elevator wasn’t viable, and her hands were shaking way too much to deal with the number of agents she suspected were currently heading in her direction. Her mind was foggy, and she desperately looked around her apartment for an escape route. The kitchen fire escape caught her eye and she weighed the risks. She had a creeping suspicion that the Dark Army didn’t send their best on this mission; the fact that she was still breathing confirmed her theory. She tucked away her questions of why in the back of her mind, focusing on the choice ahead of her. Given their ability level, they probably weren’t watching the fire escape. She sighed again, hoping this was her last gamble of the day.

The footsteps got louder as the agents neared Dom’s floor, and she quickly turned toward the fire escape. It would take too long to pry the window open, she realized, dread curling up her spine. She made a split-second decision, rushing forward and sending herself crashing through the window. Her arms curled up around her head as the glass smashed under her weight, and she felt the stinging cuts of glass shards across her body. She landed with a bang on the fire escape stairs, groaning at the impact. She shakily rose to her feet, the world dipping beneath her as she began hurrying down the two flights leading towards the back alley, her ribs aching in protest.

Her feet hit the ground hard, and she immediately ran down the alley as she heard the distant sound of boots stomping into her apartment. She caught sight of a black sedan at the front of her building, but sighed with relief when it stayed in place. Her gamble paid off; they apparently weren’t smart enough to cover every exit, however unlikely their use. She hobbled toward the safehouse, glancing over her shoulder as her apartment faded from view. No one on the street paid her any mind, all wrapped up in their own business, too desensitized or too uninterested to question her.

Her skin itched with the desire to sit down and catch her breath, but the knowledge that she would probably never get back up again kept her moving. By the time she reached the safehouse, she was barely keeping her feet beneath her, darkness clouding her vision as she struggled up the front steps. She weakly knocked on the door, leaning heavily against the frame. She was starting to fade out, her body shutting down now that she was relatively safe. She heard Darlene move to open the door and she slumped in relief that her text went through.

“What the fuck is this, Dom? You can’t just…” Darlene trailed off when she caught sight of Dom barely supporting herself, blood dripping everywhere on the front stoop. Dom grimaced weakly, her eyelids fluttering as the other woman looked her over. “Holy shit, what the fuck happened to you? Get in here.”

Dom took a shaky breath, stepping forward into the apartment. She turned to Darlene, steeling herself as she prepared to explain everything. She took another small step towards her, right before her exhaustion finally took over.

Darlene rushed forward as Dom crumpled to the ground, catching her around the waist right before the other woman hit the floor. Dom hung limply in Darlene’s arms as she clumsily dragged her toward the couch, struggling to support the agent’s dead weight and trying not to exacerbate any possible injuries. She dumped her on the couch as gently as she could, Dom’s arm hanging limply off the side as she took shallow breaths. Darlene was frozen, staring at the woman on her couch, her brain racing as she tried to make sense of the scene in front of her.

“Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck do I do? Why the fuck is she here? What happened? Fuck!” Darlene clutched her forehead in frustration, pacing back and forth, feeling completely overwhelmed and somewhat angry. “Shit, okay, think. Think. There’s gotta be some sort of med kit in this dump, miss-stick-up-her-ass would definitely have one here.” Darlene stole another glance at the agent, noting the blood seeping into the cushions from underneath her jacket. She turned away, running to the bathroom and tearing through the cabinets for a first-aid kit. She let out a quick laugh when she found a fully stocked kit stashed under the sink, moving back over to the couch.

Darlene knelt in front of Dom, resting her hands on the edge of the couch. Her fingers twitched hesitatingly, unsure of what to do or where to start. She noted the trickle of blood running down Dom’s forehead, and she tentatively reached forward to brush her hair back to find the source. She frowned when she found a deep gash about four inches long near her hairline, surrounded by light bruising. Her frown deepened when she realized it probably indicated a concussion. She reached her hand forward, pausing slightly, before lightly shaking Dom back and forth by the shoulder. 

“Hey. Stick-up-the-ass. Wake up. Come on. Rise and shine.” Darlene shook a little harder, irritated and a little scared at the agent’s failure to regain consciousness. She startled when Dom’s eyes snapped open, her body bolting upwards and her grip tightening around Darlene’s wrist where it rested on her shoulder. 

“Whoa, jesus, it’s just me. Relax.” Dom’s grip weakened at the sound of the hacker’s voice. She took deep, steadying breaths, trying to focus through the fog in her mind. She blinked several times, head listing to the side, as Darlene slowly drew back her hand and stared intensely at her.

“Darlene? How long have I been here? Has anyone come by?” Dom asked in a rush, her words spilling out with a tangible slur. 

“No, you need to tell me what’s going on first. Who the hell did this to you? What happened?” Darlene was scrutinizing Dom, her gaze piercing. Dom tried to gather her scrambled thoughts in an attempt to answer. 

“Dark Army showed up at my apartment. It got messy. I need to…” She attempted to stand up, lifting herself off the couch, but she immediately swayed hard to the left, her knees buckling beneath her. Darlene leapt up to catch her around the waist again. 

“Slow down there, Lone Ranger. You’re not going anywhere. You got yourself seriously fucked up, so sit back down before you kill yourself.” Darlene lowered Dom down to the couch, lying the agent back against the cushions while she fought to stay conscious. “I’m pretty sure you have a concussion, but I don’t know how to stich up that ugly fucking gash on your head. Thoughts?” Dom shut her eyes, trying to catch her breath and think. 

“Okay. Okay. I can do it, but I need you to help me get to the bathroom. Bring the kit.” 

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Please, Darlene.” The trust me went unsaid between them, thickening the air and forcing Darlene to swallow uncomfortably. 

“Okay. Shit, okay.” Darlene reached down and wrapped her arm around Dom’s shoulders, pulling her up and off the couch. Darlene tightened her grip as Dom swayed heavily, pulling her up against her side and letting Dom lean her full weight into her. 

“You’re heavier than you look.” Dom gave a weak laugh, gripping tightly to Darlene as they slowly made their way to the bathroom. Darlene kept her grip tight, half-dragging Dom forward while the agent stumbled over her own feet. Darlene slowly put her down on the floor, leaning down with her until Dom rested fully against the wall. 

“Got it?” Darlene asked, eyeing Dom critically where she was slumped against the wall. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Grab the kit.” 

Darlene returned a minute later, kit in hand, and handed it to Dom on the floor before sitting across from her against the sink. It was a surreal image, she thought: positioned across from a wounded FBI agent determined to jail her brother. The unidentifiable feeling she got around Dom returned, nagging at her as she watched Dom sloppily open the med kit. The emotion had a softness to it that made her both angry and nervous, causing a strange fear to rush through her chest. She pushed it down, focusing instead on Dom attempting to thread a needle with shaking hands without success. Darlene snatched it from her hands. 

“Just let me do it.” She snapped, pushing the material through the pin head. Dom nodded, tired and resigned, as Darlene handed it back to her. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing until the shaking in her hands became a steady tremble instead. She motioned for the mirror resting on the counter and Darlene reached up and grabbed it. 

“I just need you to hold this steady for me so I can see what I’m doing.” Darlene nodded at Dom’s request, oddly finding herself at a loss for words. She gripped the mirror tight, bringing it up in front of Dom until Dom nodded at the positioning. 

She brought the needle up, watching the mirror carefully as she began stitching. She breathed deeply through the pain, counting in her head to keep herself calm. The stitches were sloppy but functional, and she clung tightly to consciousness, determined not to pass out again. 

“Are you… have you done this kind of thing before?” Darlene had paled considerably watching Dom work, mildly frightened at the agent’s impressive precision despite her condition. It seemed practiced almost, too well executed to have been Dom’s first time. The thought was oddly concerning to Darlene. What had happened in Dom’s life that made her so adept at patching herself up? The though weighed uncomfortably in her mind as Dom stitched herself. 

“Jersey girls, remember?” Dom answered vaguely, pulling the needle through one last time and letting her hand shakily fall away. Darlene noted the avoidance but for once didn’t push it, concerned about the way Dom’s eyelids had begun fluttering again and the way her body listed to the side. 

“Don’t pass out. I don’t know what to do. Please don’t pass out.” Darlene let a tinge of desperation seep into her otherwise irritated tone, hoping it would be enough to keep Dom conscious. Dom nodded slowly, blinking heavily and drawing herself back up against the wall. Her head was pounding, the pain of the stitches and the rest of her body catching up to her in full. 

“I’m awake. I’m awake.” She tried to reassure Darlene’s obviously frayed nerves. Darlene nodded at her, her hand coming up to grip Dom’s jacket. 

“There’s blood coming through this.”

“Glass, probably. They don’t feel too deep. Butterfly bandages probably, but I don’t…” Dom was nodding off again, her vision slipping away as Darlene’s face swam in front of her. “Ribs, too, they… gun…” Dom fell unconscious again, slumping into Darlene’s arm where it clutched her jacket. Darlene pushed her up against the wall, her arms trembling slightly with fear and adrenaline. 

“Okay. Jacket’s coming off, I guess.” She slipped the jacket off Dom’s slumped form, cataloging the grazes on her arms from what she presumed to be broken glass. She stood up and ran the sink, pushing a towel underneath the water before sitting back down beside Dom and carefully cleaning away the dried blood on her arms and face. Darlene finished quickly, uncomfortable with the closeness. She reached into the kit for the butterfly bandages, methodically peeling them apart and pressing them onto Dom’s skin. The agent didn’t move at all, still completely passed out, and Darlene was silently thankful that Dom wasn’t awake for this. The bathroom felt too small, they felt too close, and Darlene felt decidedly off-kilter, thrown by the emotion creeping up her spine. 

She finished the bandages, eyes falling down to Dom’s ribs. She sighed, unsure of what she would find underneath. She hesitatingly gripped Dom’s shirt, moving her head slightly closer. 

“I wish you would wake up, Dom. I really don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here.” Darlene felt a foreign desperation grip her, her concern for the agent finally breaking her façade. Dom was bleeding all over the floor, wounded and helpless, and Darlene was so, so lost. 

To Darlene’s great relief, Dom slowly regained consciousness, Darlene still clutching tightly at her shirt. Dom dropped her gaze to her arms, observing the cleanliness and the butterfly bandages. Darlene was avoiding her gaze, but her hands were still fisted into her shirt. Feeling mildly overwhelmed and oddly touched, Dom raised an unsteady hand to Darlene’s, giving it a brief squeeze. 

“Thanks.” Her voice was soft, filling the bathroom with a quiet gratitude. Darlene gave a jerky nod, finally facing Dom. 

“Take your shirt off.” Dom quirked an eyebrow at the request, but attempted to raise her arms regardless. She stopped, biting back a groan when her ribs protested sharply at the movement. 

“What’s wrong?” Darlene moved her hands to Dom’s shoulders, gripping them tightly to keep the agent grounded. 

“My ribs. Guy smashed into me pretty hard. Must have bruised them.” Dom lowered her arms back down, shutting her eyes tightly at the pain. 

“Okay. Let me just…” Darlene rummaged through the kit, pulling out a pair of scissors with a small grin. “Hope you weren’t too attached to this one.” Dom waved her hand lightly in approval, electing to stay quiet so she could focus on dampening the pain. Darlene carefully cut through the agent’s shirt off, exposing her chest. 

“Shit. That doesn’t look too good.” Darlene remarked, taking in the sight of Dom’s bruised ribs. The skin was most discolored around a small imprint of a barrel, and more tiny cuts from the glass were littered across her chest. Dom craned her neck to get a better view of the bruising and let out a low whistle.

“Yeah. That’s not great, huh? Just ice it, I guess.” Darlene nodded, trusting Dom’s medical opinion more than her own. She reached for more bandages, placing them gently on Dom’s chest. She curiously noted a few, finer white scars on Dom’s ribcage, and a few on her shoulder. She kept her expression neutral when she identified a light scar on Dom’s lower shoulder as an old gunshot wound. Her uncomfortableness had increased tenfold now that Dom was awake, and she studiously avoided Dom’s gaze, focusing intently on patching her up. Dom, for her part, didn’t say anything at all, content to simply relax under Darlene’s ministrations. Her eyes had just begun to slip closed again when Darlene shook her back awake. 

“Not yet, Starsky. I need to look at your back.” Dom’s eyes snapped open at that, fear bringing her back awake. 

“No. It’s fine. We’re done.” Dom sounded strangely forceful, not leaving it up to debate. Darlene frowned angrily, her brow creasing. 

“Listen. I need to look at your back so we can pack all this shit up and be done with it. What the fuck is the problem?” Dom’s jaw clenched, her eyes darting to the side, refusing to answer. It was strange, Darlene thought, to see her tense up with a rare anger and something else, something deeper that Darlene had never seen from the agent. Fear, she realized. Dom was afraid. Darlene quickly switched tactics. 

“Look, whatever it is, I’ll make it fast, alright? Now come on. Unclench. Let’s just finish this god damn thing.” Dom softened slightly at the words, her body still tense under Darlene’s hands but relaxing somewhat anyway. She sighed and leaned forward, allowing Darlene better access to her back. 

Darlene involuntarily sucked in a breath at the sight of Dom’s back. There were several, long, old scars stretched out across her spine. The worst was a deep gouge on her mid-back, a twisted and thick scar that curled up towards her shoulder blades. Whatever had caused it looked extremely painful. Darlene unthinkingly reached a hand forward out of curiosity, brushing lightly against the edge of the scar. Dom tensed sharply against the touch, leaning forward and away from it. Darlene quickly drew her hand back, glancing over at Dom’s expression, finding her face pale and expressionless. 

“Jersey girls.” Darlene said, uncharacteristically soft, in an attempt to apologize. Dom huffed but relaxed against Darlene’s touch. Darlene exhaled softly in relief, applying a few bandages to various scrapes. 

“Okay. That’s it, I think.” Dom nodded in agreement, already trying to stand up but failing miserable as her arms trembled with her lack of strength. 

“Christ, will you stop with that?” Darlene remarked, guiding Dom back up against the wall. Dom nodded wearily, too tied to argue. Swallowing her discomfort, Darlene leaned forward into Dom’s bare chest, wrapping a hand around her shoulders and grabbing her other hand. 

“Come on. Last time, Sherlock.” Dom gave her a sideways glance at the nickname but leaned into Darlene as she pulled them up off the floor. Once she was upright, Dom’s vision swam dangerously, the blood rushing to her head and her legs weakening beneath her.

“Don’t pass out on me, I swear to god. I’m not dragging your ass around by myself.” Darlene tightened her grip, pulling Dom tight into her side despite her discomfort. Dom laughed, blinking away black spots as Darlene started to move them forward. They hobbled their way to the bedroom, Dom getting weaker with each step, leaning more and more into Darlene. 

“Almost there.” Darlene nearly whispered, and Dom hummed lightly, barely hanging onto consciousness. She was fully supported by Darlene now, her feet stumbling uselessly beneath her. Darlene grunted under the weight but kept moving them forward. 

They reached the bedroom, which was dully colored without decorations, with one wide window letting in the lamplight from the city street. They stumbled their way over to the bed, Darlene’s grip loosening as she sat Dom down on the edge. Dom swayed forward and then stopped, held in place by Darlene’s tight grip on her shoulders. 

“I’m gonna go grab you a shirt, one sec.” Dom nodded dumbly, exhaustion clawing at the edges of her mind. Darlene returned with a light grey shirt in hand, looking apologetically at Dom. 

“Arms up. I’ll make it quick.” Darlene instructed, gripping Dom’s wrists. She drew them upward, watching Dom grimace in pain as she quickly pulled the shirt over her arms. “Sorry.” Darlene felt uncharacteristically apologetic at the sight of Dom pained and exhausted, leaning heavily into her support. Darlene briefly glanced out the window, watching the moonlight cut through the top of the blinds. How did she get here? Why did she feel so concerned?

Dom started to slowly fall forward, finally giving into exhaustion. Darlene gently held her upright, pushing her further onto the bed so that she was against the pillows. Dom sighed, Darlene’s hands lingering against her arms. She opened her eyes again, squinting against the light, and looked Darlene straight in the eyes. 

“When’s the end of the world?” Dom’s voice was soft, questioning, her fatigued mind searching for something in Darlene’s expression.

“What the fuck kind of a question is that? Go to sleep, Dom.” Darlene’s voice was soft in the moonlit room, her tone weary and confused. Dom smiled, the weight of Darlene’s hands heavy on her shoulders as she finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus, this is long. i need to sleep. god bless you all. keep being gay. write fanfic for this ship. goodnight


	4. Im/ex-plosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this is all cliche as fuck and terrible but i can't bring myself to care at all bc i wrote it totally for myself and am only posting it bc this tag is a desolate wasteland and the other three people who ship this deserve better

“I hate this fucking place. Why are we even here this fucking early? I thought we planned for more human hours, like noon.” Darlene viciously looked around at the FBI building, irritated and somewhat worried about how fast Dom had thrown herself back into the investigation despite the Dark Army incident less than a week prior.

They walked side by side through the FBI hallway, Dom looking straight ahead as Darlene’s head swung back and forth, daring any of the few agents to meet her gaze. The floor was nearly empty, just themselves and a couple other early-risers. Dom smirked at Darlene’s petulance. 

“It has its charms. And besides, we have work to do.” Darlene turned to Dom and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, right, whatever. Not my fault you don’t have a life. And also, too much white.” Darlene snarked back, earning an eye roll from Dom as they turned the corner. They stepped into the joint office, the large conference table inside covered with various files and photos they had been collecting on Tyrell. Darlene tensed up when they entered the room; Dom felt her chest tighten at the pensiveness on her face, her old annoyance gone. She had originally felt a little colder towards Darlene’s reluctance, driven by her desire to bring the perpetrators to justice. But things were more complicated now, herself included. The simple had become complex, almost frustratingly so. She was reminded of her dream: the beautiful woman, the lightness, the inevitable drowning beneath the waves.

She put an immediate halt to her thoughts, pulling herself from the same spiral she always fell into. She had to focus on the goal, her whole purpose at the FBI; hold them accountable, whatever the cost. Her eyes fell on Darlene and the thought softened, grew weak, as she again considered that the costs were becoming a little too high.

She was abruptly pulled from her thoughts by a tug at her instincts. Something wasn’t right. She looked over to where Darlene was leaning over the table, sighing at the documents in front of her. Dom tilted her head, listening intently for agents outside. It was… quiet. The low hum and mumbling was absent; the only sound was Darlene’s heavy sighs, the flickering of the fluorescent lights, and the light whistle of wind outside. Her senses ignited, desperately trying to determine why everything felt so off. 

Darlene looked up at her, noting Dom’s stiff posture and the odd expression on her face. She felt her heart rate pick up at the tight expression on the agent’s face. The room felt heavy suddenly, the tense atmosphere pushing down on her. 

“What’s wrong?” Darlene asked, Dom immediately bringing a finger to her lips and shushing her. Darlene huffed, adrenaline creeping into her system, trying to tune in to whatever Dom was listening too. Dom’s eyes suddenly widened fractionally, swiveling towards Darlene and rushing towards her. 

“Down!” Darlene’s eyes widened in shock at the request, her whole body frozen in shock as Dom roughly collided with her, bringing them crashing down to the ground. The explosion came a second later, dust and debris flying everywhere as the whole room vibrated with the force. Dom was laying squarely on top of Darlene, pushing her into the floor with the weight of her body. Her arms were curled around Darlene’s back, pulling her close into her chest. She felt the pain her chest ignite, her bruised ribs crying out in protest at the force of the impact. She struggled to catch her breath, focus through the pain. 

The dust settled and Darlene opened her eyes again, staring into Dom’s scrutinizing gaze. Dom’s mouth was moving, presumable speaking, but Darlene couldn’t hear her, the ringing in her ears drowning out all the other noise. Dom leaned back, shaking her lightly by the shoulders, trying to get Darlene to snap out of it. 

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. We’re okay. But you need to get up. Come on.” Dom shook her a little harder, sighing in relief as Darlene’s eyes finally focused on her.

“What the fuck was that? Dom, what-“ Darlene was shaking, her expression fearful as she tightened her grip on Dom’s arms. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t made for this, wasn’t prepared for this- she was just a girl from an insignificant town, swept up in something beyond her control, frightened and lonely. 

Dom watched the emotions flicker across Darlene’s face as she went into shock, could feel her whole body trembling beneath her in fear. They needed to get out of there, fast. 

“I don’t know. I’m going to go look. Stay right here. Get behind the table. Don’t move until I get back.” Dom pushed herself up off of Darlene, wincing from the pain of her still-healing ribs as she yanked Darlene up with her, desperately trying to get her to move. She reached down, grabbing a small pistol from her ankle holster and shoving it into Darlene’s hands. 

“Take this. Don’t move. If you see someone who isn’t me, shoot them. Avoid center mass. I’ll be right back.” Darlene nodded dumbly, stumbling over to the overturned table with the force of Dom’s shove. 

“Okay. Just sit tight.” Dom spared Darlene once last glance, drawing her gun from her holster as she turned back to face the hallway. 

Dom stepped gingerly around the door frame, gun drawn in front of her. She coughed from the dust lingering in the air, squinting down the hallway towards the main room. She took a few tentative steps forward, hearing the muffled sound of yelling coming from ahead of her. She peered into the room, her view obscured by the thick haze of smoke and ash in front of her. 

Her head whipped around at the sound of a door crashing open, her gaze falling on two Dark Army agents running into the stairwell. She fired off two shots, clipping the nearest agent in the leg as the other continued down into the stairwell. She ran forward, reaching the fallen agent right as his gun went off, his head snapping sharply to the side from the impact of the bullet in his skull.

“Fuck!” She quickly ran her hand through her hair, the floor falling silent until all she could hear was her own breathing. She looked around sharply, looking for the other agents she had seen just a few minutes ago. Her heart clenched with dread when she realized that her suspicions had been confirmed by their absence. They were probably already gone, most likely the reason the floor had fallen quiet right before the bomb had gone off. A rage overtook her swiftly, her chest burning with betrayal. 

She shook it off, focused on getting out of the building and away from the FBI. She thought of Darlene still in the other room, concern taking over, making her turn and ran back down the hallway. Dom found Darlene right where she’d left her: tucked behind the table, her eyes blank and the gun clenched tightly in her hands. Darlene surged up at the sound of Dom’s footsteps, her eyes wild and scared as she sharply rose the gun up in Dom’s direction.

“It’s me! Don’t shoot.” Dom’s hands were raised tentatively in the air as she moved into the room, her gun held high above her head. Darlene relaxed fractionally at the sight of the other woman, the gun falling back down to her side. 

“Dark Army. I don’t think we were the target. This seemed more like a warning. They probably weren’t planning on us being here.” Dom lowered her hands, walking closer to Darlene, watching her carefully. 

“But we still have to get out of here. Back to the safehouse. We can take my car. They most likely won’t be looking for us, but still. Better safe than sorry.” Dom gently pried the gun from Darlene’s hands as she spoke, tucking the weapon into her holster. Darlene didn’t respond, her body remaining frozen as Dom’s words sunk in. Dom grasped her hand gently, trying to get her to focus. 

“Darlene.” Her voice was soft, imploring. Darlene looked up at the tone, finally registering the agent fully. 

“Okay. Okay.” If Dom noticed the shake in Darlene’s voice she didn’t comment on it, electing instead to pull Darlene forward lightly by the hand, keeping her tucked behind her as they walked out of the room. Her gun remained tight in her dominant hand, her other guiding Darlene through the ruined hallway. 

They reached the parking garage quickly, Darlene still in tow and eerily silent. Dom tried to focus on the task at hand, climbing into the car and placing her gun on the console as Darlene pulled the passenger door shut. They sat in silence for a moment, Dom steeling herself before turning the key and throwing the car in reverse. They raced out of the parking garage, headed towards the safehouse in silence. 

////

Dom pulled up to the curb, shutting the car off and returning them to silence. 

“We were never there. You understand?” Dom’s voice was serious, hard. She stared hard at Darlene, waiting for her confirmation. 

“But the body-“

“They probably already moved it.” Dom’s voice betrayed nothing, absent of the anger still eating at her. 

“Okay.” Dom nodded, satisfied with Darlene’s answer. She holstered her gun, warily glancing down the sidewalk as she waited for Darlene to join her before crossing the street to the apartment. 

The apartment was quiet, showing no signs of a break-in or unwelcome visitors. Dom urged Darlene inside, starting to feel the adrenaline leave her system, her still injured body starting to ache again in its absence. 

She moved towards the bathroom as Darlene sat on the couch, trying not to betray her pain as she walked. She shut the bathroom door quietly, trying not to spook Darlene. She had expected her to be mad, acidic- the fact that Darlene was genuinely shaken scared her more than she was willing to admit. 

She lifted her shirt, exposing her ribs, and sighed in annoyance at the sight of her old cuts having been reopened. She rolled her eyes, reaching beneath the sink to grab the med kit. She gently wiped off the dried blood and dust before unwrapping a few butterfly bandages and applying them. She hated being injured in any way- it was a pain in the ass, and the fact that it slowed her down was endlessly irritating. Injuries were a waste of time, and she already had too many throughout her life. 

She glanced up at the sound of the door creaking open, Darlene coming out from behind it and stepping into the room. She looked surprised to see Dom, like she had forgotten the other woman was even in the apartment, before her eyes narrowed as she realized what Dom was doing. 

They stood there in silence for several moments, Dom trying to puzzle out the odd expression on Darlene’s face- it was such a blend of emotion that Dom wasn’t sure which to address first. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then decided to at least attempt to defuse whatever the hell was currently happening. 

“Must have torn them open earlier in the-“ Dom was cut off by a hard shove from Darlene, the other woman crowding into her space, looking absolutely furious. 

“Hey! Darlene, what-“ Darlene pushed her again, trapping her against the sink when she stepped forward. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? An idiot!” Dom blinked in surprise, completely thrown by Darlene’s words. “What the fuck-“ A hard hand pressed into Dom’s shoulder, pushing her further up against the sink. “-Were you thinking?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Dom tried to relax, attempting to deescalate what was currently bordering on violent. Darlene was snapping out of her shock, and it appeared she did it rather angrily. It was strikingly familiar to their time together after the diner. 

“Why did you cover me? Why did you do that? It was stupid. You could have died. You already reopened all the shit from last week.” Dom would have staggered if she wasn’t currently trapped in place. This was… definitely new. Her mind reeled, looking for a response. 

“What would you rather I had done? Nothing?” Dom was mildly incredulous, trying to quell her confusion. 

“Yes.” Darlene hissed, leaning forward until she was a few inches from Dom’s face. “That’s exactly what you should have done. You think I want your fucking death on my conscience? You think I can take another one? I can’t do that. I can’t.” Darlene’s tone let a little desperation and fear seep through, betraying what she had really been afraid of. 

“Darlene, I-“ Darlene interrupted her again, Dom’s mouth snapping shut with the force of Darlene’s glare. 

“Don’t, okay? Don’t say anything. Just don’t. Stop talking.” Darlene’s tone was harsh, but Dom could hear the genuine anxiety underneath. She nodded in response, deciding to let it go. Darlene cleared her throat, her anger ebbing away a little. 

“How’re your ribs?” Her tone was still hard, forceful. 

“Fine. But, uh, you’re kind of pressing into them a little. Hurts a bit.” Regret flickered briefly across Darlene’s face as she stepped back slightly, finally realizing the position she had put them in. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Her tone didn’t sound very apologetic, but Dom could tell that some part of it was genuine. “I just-“ Darlene’s tone quickly became angry again, crowding back into Dom’s space, though this time carefully avoiding her ribs. 

“Darlene. We’re okay. We weren’t the targets. I really don’t think they knew we were gonna be there.” Darlene shook her head, irritated, at Dom’s words. 

“I know. That’s not what I-“ She huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes sharply, before yanking Dom by her jacket until their faces were a few inches apart. Dom kept her expression neutral, not betraying any of the uncharacteristic nervousness she felt. Her training was a mantra in her head: engage, emphasize, disarm, interrogate- Darlene yanked her forward again, crashing their mouths together. It was all anger and annoyance, with a tinge of desperation that kept them leaned into one another. Dom hissed in pain when Darlene accidentally pressed into her ribs slightly, the other woman pulling back when she registered the sound. 

“You fucking idiot.” Darlene pushed her back slightly as she turned away, striding out of the bathroom without looking back. Dom stayed leaned up against the sink, taking deep breaths, her mind spinning in dizzying circles. She felt frozen in her confusion, glued to the floor as she tried to make sense of the past five minutes. She kept coming back to the same thing, again and again: what the fuck?

For one stupid moment, she wished that Alexa was sitting on the counter next to her.


End file.
